


Teenage Rites of Passage: SuperBestFriends

by ArgonSwan



Series: Teenage Rites of Passage [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, I don't even know where to start with these tags, I'll update the tags when I post the rest of this, M/M, Underage Drinking, drunk kyle is aggressive and hilarious, mama token is gonna kick all of these dumb kids out of his house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 09:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18232907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgonSwan/pseuds/ArgonSwan
Summary: It's senior year of high school: finals finally are over and graduation is just around the corner. It's the end of the year party at Token's place and Kyle and Stan are stewing over some unresolved feelings.They'll work it out... one way or another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *** Sorry for the lack of updates, I'm just stuck on all this editing and I can't move forward with the story until I finish it. It's slow, but I'll try to get it out as soon as possible >.< ***

“Listen here, asshole!” Kyle slammed Stan against the wall, red, pouty lips curled up into a snarl – exposing glistening, bared teeth. Green eyes flashing, fury cutting through the glossy sheen of intoxication. His expression almost… hungry?

Stan watched as Kyle’s heavily lidded eyes wandered away from his own blue ones, lingering on the other boy’s lips. His own half-parted ones hanging temptingly, still glossy from draining his nth cup of vodka and punch. Kyle’s eyes traveled passed Stan’s mouth, to his jaw, down to his throat – the corner of his lips twitching at the artery throbbing from the stimulants and adrenaline.

Yeah, definitely hungry.

What were they fighting about again? Stan wondered

“What are we fighting about again?” Oh, he had said it out loud.

Kyle blinked his green eyes rapidly, jerking away from his intense examination of the other boy. He opened his mouth, staring blankly for a few seconds. “I… I don’t know…”

They stared at each other, expressions wavering, virtually unreadable in the pulsing lights. The muted music from downstairs shook the walls.

Someone stumbled passed them, miraculously finding the correct door to the bathroom, flinging it open and slamming it shut behind them. Another figure pushed passed soon after, calling out after the other. The silhouette jiggled the door handle, shouting something else unintelligible.

Kyle and Stan’s eyes gravitated back to each other.

Kyle gulped. Stan licked his lips.

Both of them stared at each other for a few moments.

“Oh fuck it.” They whispered almost simultaneously and crashed together, their lips hot against each other’s.

Kyle still had Stan pinned against the wall. The arm that was pressed across Stan’s chest moved to griping the base of his throat roughly, nails leaving red marks across his clavicle. Kyle drew back, biting and tugging on Stan’s lower lip as he did. “You’re so gonna regret this in the morning.” Kyle whispered, almost giggling, his eyes gleaming in the flashing lights.

Stan responded by grabbing Kyle’s face with both of his hands, sticking his tongue further down Kyle’s throat.

Kyle huffed something against Stan’s lips, but leaned into the kiss hungrily, grinding his hips experimentally against Stan’s. The black haired boy’s knees buckled. Stan felt Kyle smirk against his lips.

Stan retaliated, grabbing Kyle’s ass, lifting and squeezing roughly. Prompting a breathy gasp from the redhead. Stan smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

Stan had found Kyle on the edge of the dance floor. The redhead was staring fixedly at an almost empty bottle of vodka clenched in his fist. Kyle’s russet curls were wild in a way that Stan knew his friend was either stressed, nervous, drunk or a combination of the three. Kyle looked up, squinting when he saw his friend approach.

“Shut up.” He snapped before the black-haired boy could even open his mouth. Stan held up his hands in mock surrender. The redhead huffed, directing his scowl back toward the bottle. “Kenny gave it to me.” Kyle said shortly, as if that explained everything. Stan tried not to roll his eyes. “Fuck Kenny.” The redhead muttered, narrowing his eyes as he continued to glare intently at the opaque glass in his hand.

Stan sighed. Drunk Kyle had a bad habit of disclosing only a fraction of his train of thought, leaving Stan to put together the pieces on his own.

“Man, fuck Kenny!” Kyle’s ringlets rippled as he suddenly whipped his head around to look at Stan. “That prick said I have a stick up my ass!” Kyle’s face was so close Stan could see his friend’s dilated pupils pulse in time with the flashing lights. “Do I have a stick up my ass?!?”

The black-haired boy grimaced. Kenny wasn’t _entirely_ wrong. Stan rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. “Well…”

That was apparently the wrong answer because the desperate plea in Kyle’s expression quickly morphed into a deep frown, “You do! You do think I have a stick up my ass!” The redhead accused, staring incredulously at Stan. Kyle ran a hand though his already mussed curls, muttering to himself. Stan stifled a chuckle at the increasingly erratic scarlet halo framing his friend’s head. Kyle groaned, turning away.

 _Damnit Kenny._ Now, Stan wouldn’t have phrased it quite as callously as Kenny had, but Kyle was definitely… fun-challenged. The black-haired boy frowned. Kenny was an asshole, but he was also forthright to a fault. He could be relied on to speak his mind plainly. Stan respected that. Though, in the moment he wished the snarky blonde could have had a bit more tact earlier this evening. Stan’s mouth twisted in worry. Witnessing Kyle’s existential crisis as the redhead drowned himself in god only knows how much cheap vodka was concerning, to say the least.

Kyle spent nearly all of time studying. Even during lunch he’d have a book open, barely touching his food. Stan had to remind his friend to eat. Kyle was rail-thin and it didn’t help matters much that the redhead’s height had suddenly shot up sophomore year, bony joints emphasizing just how skinny his limbs were.  

During college application season, Stan never saw his friend unless he barged into the Broflovski residence and endured through Kyle’s bitching about how he was “so busy” and “didn’t have time for distractions”. Stan had taken slight offense to this. Admittedly, he still harbored a bit of unspoken resentment toward Kyle; a bitterness growing in his chest as the redhead informed Stan repeatedly that the black-haired boy’s presence in his life was a nuisance. His musings were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Oh my god.” Kyle said in a soft monotone, his shoulders slumping. “Everyone thinks I have a stick up my ass.” The back of his head thudded lightly against the wall, staring blankly into the crowd in front of them.

Kyle redirected his eyes to the offending glass still clutched in his fist. “I don’t fucking know why I’m drinking this.” After a pause, he rolled his eyes and threw his head back, draining the rest. Kyle grimaced. “This is so gross.” He looked miserably over at Stan, his face almost as red as his hair.

 _Legitimately drunk Kyle. This is rare._ Stan sighed. _I’m not drunk enough to deal with this._ The black-haired boy looked down at the bottle of rum in his hand. He had brought it to share. _But…_ Stan debated with himself briefly before screwing open the lid, taking a long, long drink.  _Token probably has plenty already…_  

He scrunched up his face as the burning liquid ran down his throat. “Ok give me like 5 minutes.” He finally said, holding out a hand as Kyle opened his mouth to retort.

Stan had always been trying to convince Kyle to let loose; but it was Kenny of all people who finally pushed Kyle over the edge? Or was it just the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back?

The black-haired boy took another swig of the rum. Time to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

And somehow they had ended up making out in the hallway.

 

 “Oh goddamnit, really?”

Kyle and Stan didn’t even turn to see who it was. Stan’s hands moving down from Kyle’s face, now fumbling with the buttons of his flannel. Eyes shining, Kyle flung his arms around Stan’s shoulders and sunk his teeth into the muscle where the other boy’s neck met his shoulder. Stan hissed, biting his lip.

There was a loud sigh. “At least go somewhere else. Don’t fuck in the middle of the hallway!”

Kyle’s knees buckled a bit as the unknown speaker gave him a light kick in the leg. At this, Stan shifted his hands to Kyle’s thighs, above his knees, hitching him up and pivoting so the redhead was now the one pressed against the wall. After getting over the initial shock, Kyle giggled and wrapped his legs around his waist enthusiastically, bringing his lips back to Stan’s.

“Jesus fucking christ. You drunk bastards.”

Stan felt the smack of something cold and hard against the back of his head, finally prompting him to separate his face from Kyle’s.

He was met with Token’s unamused eyes. Kyle slowly slid down back to a standing position. Token shoved a 1/3 full bottle of rum into Stan’s hand. “Take this. Go fuck somewhere else.” Kyle and Stan just stood there with a dumb look on their faces.

Kyle snatched the bottle of rum, popped the cap off, and took a swig. “I have the best idea. Like the beeeeest idea everrrrrrrrrr.” Kyle slurred in Stan’s ear, giggling. “Wanna go to the super-best-friends tree-fort?”

The black haired boy perked up. He grabbed the bottle, took a quick drink then screwed the cap back on. He smacked Token’s shoulder, “Thanks bro.”

“Don’t forget to use protection!” Clyde shouted after them, but they didn’t even acknowledge the comment, barely able to keep their hands off each other as they stumbled toward the front door. Token rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile as the two tottered off.

~ ~ ~

“Shhhhhh!”

“No you shhhh!”

“Dude you’re gonna wake up the whole town!”

“You’re so drunk dude.”

“No you.” Kyle snatched the rum bottle from Stan’s grasp, fumbling with the cap before taking a swig.

Poorly-muffled giggling echoed through the neighborhood.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oi.” He held out his palm toward Kyle expectantly. Instead of giving the bottle back, the redhead boldly filled the space with his own hand. Stan grinned sloppily, swinging their clasped hands between them as they continued walking.

“Dude, I’ll bet you Kenny and Cartman are gonna start some shit before the end of the night.” Kyle snickered.

Stan snorted. “Well duh. Cartman is an asshole. But Kenny was really egging him on tonight.”

“I wonder who pissed in his Wheaties this morning.” Kyle said thoughtfully, lackadaisically tilting his head back to look up at the sky.

Stan let out a barking laugh. “Dude, Kenny can’t afford Wheaties, they’re a brand name.”

Kyle laughed so hard they had to pause on the sidewalk as the redhead doubled over. They both knew it really wasn’t all that funny, but his laughter was contagious, even more so to the very drunk Stan. And he was soon in stitches along with his friend. Hearing Stan laughing made Kyle laugh harder, and soon both boys were howling, clutching their sides.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Kyle finally said. He wiped a tear away from his eye, wheezing. “We gotta get to the SuperBestFriends tree fort before we run out of rum.”

~ ~ ~

Miraculously, the two made it the rest of the way to Stan’s house. Kyle and Stan stood under the tree, looking up at the old wooden fort. Kyle eyed the rope ladder dubiously. Even in his drunken state, he was briefly questioning the validity of them being able to actually make the climb up the flimsy rope ladder.

After a bit of squabbling, in a fleeting spur of coordination, Stan grabbed Kyle and hoisted him into the air. Kyle made a loud noise of protest, but noticed that with the boost he could practically reach the ledge of the fort’s entrance. With more difficulty than he would have liked to admit, Kyle scrambled up the remaining bit of ladder and hauled himself up over the threshold. He glanced back down at Stan, who was still standing at the base of the tree, looking up with a vulpine grin plastered on his face.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “You totally just wanted an excuse to stare at my ass.”

“You bet your ass I totally just wanted an excuse to stare at your ass.” Stan stated matter-of-factly, smile widening. Kyle rolled his eyes, turning away to hide the grin creeping across his face.

“If you’re content with just staring, by all means stay down there…” Kyle trailed off, tugging on a curl of his hair coyly.

Stan stared up at Kyle stupidly, his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Well come up and get this ass then.” Kyle blushed, surprising himself with his brashness.

A sudden ravenous glint flashed in Stan’s eyes and he tossed the bottle of rum up at the redhead. Kyle let out panicked squeak. He barely managed to snag the bottle out of the air, cursing. Stan winced at the string of profanity directed his way, just now realizing that could have gone very differently if he hadn’t been playing football since middle school.

Kyle glared. “I’m gonna finish off this bottle without you if you don’t get your dumb ass up here.”

Again, with surprising deftness, Stan scampered up the rope ladder, tackling Kyle as he pulled himself inside. Kyle fell back, disturbing the pile of old beanbags and pillows and consequently – much to his chagrin – launching a thick plume of dust into the air. They both coughed and waited for the dust to settle. Eyes watering, Kyle directed his gaze toward Stan.

The black-haired boy shrugged, “Sorry?”

He didn’t look even remotely sorry.

Kyle remained stone-faced. He was actually slightly peeved but he was mostly feigning annoyance. _To teach that dumbass a lesson_.

The smile slowly slipped from Stan’s face, realizing he might have actually fucked up and pissed Kyle off.

But after a tense moment Kyle chuckled, rubbing his nose. “Damn it’s been forever since we’ve been up here, hasn’t it?”

Their eyes met in a way only super best friends could and they fell into a laughing fit, Stan collapsing on top of Kyle.

Their laughter died away, and it grew quiet except for the sound of their slightly labored breathing. Stan gently brushed a curl out of Kyle’s face. He leaned down and kissed him, this time slow and tender. “I don’t know what to do without you.” Stan admitted with a breathy whisper.

Kyle pulled away slightly, a guilty look creeping up on his face as he adverted his gaze to the side. “We still have time to figure things out.”

Stan sighed. “Not much…”

“I know…” Kyle sighed as well, fiddling with the collar of Stan’s shirt. He looked back up at Stan after a moment of pensive thought. “What are we doing dude?”

“…I dunno man.” Stan admitted, running his thumb across Kyle angular cheekbone.

They could hear the cacophony of cicadas buzzing as they stared at each other in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> ughhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm trash I need to rewrite this whole fucking mess.


End file.
